


The Mundane Life of One Eloise Clyde

by ManMagnificent



Category: Pact - Wildbow
Genre: Elsewhere Fic, F/F, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25871551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManMagnificent/pseuds/ManMagnificent
Summary: Even when the world has been laid bare and its secrets have been revealed, it's quite possible that life can be mundane. Two years ago Eloise was inducted into the world of magic and Others, and though she quite loves it, she yearns more to write a magical text and publish it than she cares about binding the trickster spirit causing trouble down the way.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this when during a strong wind and I wondered how it might look in the Pact universe. I decided it was worth a try writing how life can be mundane in a magical world. This story will be written in a series of vignettes that show Eloise as she goes about her day-to-day.

Eloise was surrounded by mirrors on all sides and it didn’t make things better. She was alone in the elevator and yet she found she’d gravitated to a corner, her back resting against the little railing. Her hands were in front of her, fingers tight against her clutch as she moved her hands slowly to feel at the material.

 _Chin up,_ she thought. _Presentation matters._

She looked up and saw herself. Not too tall and not too short, she was a bit hefty and it grated her a little because she’d started a diet a while ago and it still hadn’t started to work. She wore a blue dress that felt a little small, with straps that felt a little too wide for her arms, and detailing around the neck that was too frilly. In a fit of passion she’d chosen to wear flat shoes, but as she stared at her reflection, she felt the shoes didn’t pull anything together.

She swallowed, closed her eyes, counted to ten and opened them again.

She looked away from the mirrors and instead focused her attention on the buttons to one side, they lit whenever they passed through a floor and it slowly went up as she ascended.

She’d been a practitioner for nearly two years and this was the first time she’d been invited to one of the Wilcox family’s gatherings. It was an honour, the Wilcox family was the oldest family in Buskerton and perhaps the most influential. Eloise didn’t think she’d done anything to warrant their eye, but they’d invited her no less and to refuse felt like the worst of affronts.

 _They must have done this for a reason,_ she thought and a part of her feared the thought even more. She wasn’t a true practitioner by any means, she had no stores of power and the only magic she practised was that which she called ritual work. Setting an expectation, letting that become pattern so it could protect her.

All she liked to do was the research books she wanted to write. Everything else fell to the wayside.

The elevator lurched as it came to a stop, and Eloise started as the doors slid open. A man stood beyond, dressed largely in black save the bits of white from his shirt and gloves.

“Ma’am,” he said in greeting. Eloise swallowed and tried to smile. The man, expression unchanging, took her in. “Name, please.”

“What—” she cleared her throat as it came out shaky. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I have been instructed by Mrs Annalise Wilcox to let enter all whose names are on a list she told me,” the man said. “I will need you to tell me your name before, if you are invited, I may let you pass.”

Eloise nodded before she said, “I’m Eloise Clyde.”

The man nodded. “You may enter, Ms Clyde.”

As if a curtain had been lifted off her eyes, Eloise noted that, from the elevator, she could see into the room beyond. It was a foyer, larger than it should be, with the feel of Greek architecture, though twisted. The foyer was shaped in a half circle, columns of gold coloured marble stretching up at points, each ending with the bust of people Eloise did not know. The patterning around the room was gold, warm brown, and a dark maroon motif with hints of black that brought things together.

Eloise could only stare as she walked in. She’d read five versions of _Essentials:_ from three different families, from a practitioner who’d been passing through town and an Other who’d once been a practitioner. She’d written a lot about Familiars, Implements and Demesnes, but she’d rarely ever interacted with them.

She _opened_ her eyes and was awestruck by the sight. The spirits in the Demesne were more ordered than those she often saw in the world outside. Everything had its place and the order had a different sort of beauty than the chaos from outside.

The busts, which had been nought but stone before, now were people who overlapped with stone, their features malleable so they could express themselves. All of them stared down at her as she moved past, most bored, while others gave her gentle smiles.

“Ma’am,” said the man. Eloise turned and saw him, not a man, but a spirit. He wore clothes much as he had before, but he was surrounded in heavy ropes, around his arms, neck and legs, they stretched out in every direction and kept him in place. “If you’d follow me.”

Eloise closed her eyes to the sight as she walked forward.

The walk ended when they reached a set of double doors coloured gold. The man, the Butler, opened the doors in one go, revealing a large ballroom already filled with people.

There weren’t a lot, perhaps fifty people in all, between which were people dressed in the same uniform carrying drinks and finger food, but it was oppressive because Eloise knew who a lot of the people were and they were all important to the ecosystem of Buskerton.

Each was dressed in the best of clothes and they held themselves with such poise that all of Eloise felt as though she should turn and go back home.

“Presenting, Eloise Clyde!” the Butler said. Conversations stopped and people turned towards her. “Dabbling practitioner of Buskerton.”

Its task done, the Butler turned back into the foyer and closed the door behind him. Conversations resumed and Eloise was left to stare at everything and feel left out.

_Why did I come here?_

Slowly she pushed herself forward. It was hard to take the first step, but it became easier after the fact. She walked in the direction of the Server Spirits who held a tray of champagne and took a glass. She took a sip and was thrilled by the taste.

She knew _of_ most of the people here but knew no one personally. She scanned and noted that almost everyone had a conversation partner which left her no place to insert herself.

 _Even the teenagers are better at me at this,_ she thought as she took another sip of the champagne.

There were three groups of teenagers, three different cliques that were too wrapped up in themselves to see anything beyond. Not that anyone else was different.

At random she picked a direction and started to walk. The room was large than it rightfully should be for a loft, too wide and too tall, and yet it was just small enough that there wasn’t too much space between people. It forced Eloise to move between crowds of people as she ambled about. The room was decorated in the same gold as the foyer, but furnishing seemed busier, there were busts on a lot of surfaces, portraits of people who sat with regal postures, and plinths that held objects Eloise thought might be worth a pretty penny.

The furthest end of the room had a set of windows that looked out into the city beyond, with a little balcony outside Eloise knew wasn’t visible if a person stood at the foot of a building and looked up.

She started to trace a path through people, past conversations, all to try and get to the window so she could look down at the city. She stopped once at a plinth at the sight of an old book with its pages opened, she tried to read the words written there but they slipped through her mind; she activated her sight and saw a rune etched onto the glass case.

She walked again, but before she could get too far, she bumped into someone.

“Oh,” said the woman and she sounded embarrassed, “excuse me.”

“I think it might be my fault,” said Eloise. Thankfully, there weren’t too many people around them, which seemed odd when it had been oppressive before. “I must not have been looking where I’m going.”

The woman shook her head. “I think the ‘fault’ might be with our host,” she said. “If you look closely, you’ll see how the Demesne draws on connections to make a bump likely.”

Eloise frowned. “Do they?” she said and she opened her eyes.

The world became a network of ropes, some as thick as arms, while others were as thin as fingers. She looked around without moving her eyes, a lot of her attention on the ropes and how they moved: the biggest ropes were those oft to be taut, and they stood rigid against movement, while the thinner ropes moved as though caught by the wind, sometimes folding to draw people towards each other.

“I think I see,” said Eloise.

The woman beamed. “I’m Daniela,” she said. “Daniela Serban.”

“Eloise Clyde,” she returned as she took Daniela in.

She was a tall, willowy woman, made taller by the heels she wore. The dress she wore was sequence, black, with one shoulder left exposed. Daniela had dark, curly hair that fell to her shoulders, and she had piercing green eyes.

“This is your first time here?” said Daniela. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around much.”

“Yeah,” said Eloise, and she felt suddenly self-conscious. She took another sip of her glass and found it almost empty. Before she could think to look around a Servant Spirit was in a place that meant she could put down her glass and take another. “First time,” she said.

“You must be very nervous,” said Daniela. “I remember I was the first time I was allowed to attend.”

“Oh?” said Eloise as her mind blanked.

Daniela nodded. “It was nine years ago,” she said. “I was…sixteen and my parents thought I was mature enough to attend.” Daniela smiled. “I was _not._ _”_

“Oh?”

“Yes,” she said. “Some of these spirits are old, and to them, at sixteen I was fully grown. It meant I could enjoy alcohol for the first time and I took the opportunity with both hands. It goes without saying that I was _utterly_ drunk by the end of the party.”

Eloise smiled. “How did your parents react?” she asked.

“Mother was distraught, but Father laughed it away. He told me he’d done worse things in his youth, though I was still punished. A month I had to say prayers at a shrine, three times a day, _every_ day. It felt like torture.”

Eloise’s heart beat a half-beat faster before returning to normal. “Prayers,” she said. “That’s one of the ways that people build hallows.”

“Yes, it is,” said Daniela. “You have an interest in hallows?”

“I’m interested in a lot of things,” she said, a little bit excited. “Even if it’s not important stuff in the grand scheme. I…consolidate information, you see. Put the different parts together. I want to write a book.”

“Oh?” she said, and she sounded quite interested.

“Yes,” said Eloise, a little too loud. “I…I had a book that I picked up, a magical text and I hated it so much, I hated the author a lot because I could feel that they were deliberately talking around something. They kept referencing stuff from other books, books I’d never get a hold off, and I resented them for that.”

“So you thought to work against them by writing complete works?” she asked.

“I don’t think it was for them,” she said. “Not completely. I…like it when things are brought together. When all the information is one place. I want that for the practice, if not for everyone, then for me.”

“A commendable goal,” she said. She turned and looked around. “One not many people would take on themselves because of the power it would give up.”

Eloise hummed. She knew how hard it was to get a Practitioner to part with knowledge. She loved to write all she could, to think about all the ways to boil information down into its simplest parts without losing the substance, but that was rarely what she did. Most of her work was spent trying to talk to people to teach her things, haggling over the favours she’d trade or the price she’d pay.

Two years of work and she hadn’t even finished one book yet.

Nervous energy filled Eloise up and it made her leg bounce. She took a breath, long and deep, and then let it out. She smiled.

“Sorry,” she said. “Just got lost in my thoughts a little. You said you’re a Serban, are they a family from Buskerton?”

“Not originally,” said Daniela. “We hail from Salem, but my family moved here when the trials were at their worst. We’re still relatively new to Buskerton, not as old as the oldest families.”

“Salem,” said Eloise. “Practitioners were involved in that?”

Daniela’s expression twisted. “The tales are gruesome,” she said. “My family has dairies of those times on the run, and their flee against witch hunters if you’re interested.”

“I am!” said Eloise, and she blushed at the sudden bout. Daniela only smiled. “I don’t have as much interest in history as the function of the various magics, but it might be easier to focus on that as a whole instead of trying to get bits of magical knowledge.”

“Yes,” said Daniela. “There is power in a tale shared, an impact on the world especially if the tale is read. I think you would find an easier time if you explored histories.”

“I—”

There was a clink, once and it filled the air. Eloise didn’t want to, but she found her attention pulled away from Daniella and to a woman that was maybe in her early fifties. She stood before the windows, the floor slightly raised so she stood over everyone: Annalise Wilcox, the host of the party.

Conversations stopped and people turned to her. She took a moment and stood taller.

“Guests,” she said. She didn’t speak too loudly but her voice carried. “I’m honoured that you have taken time from your schedules to be with me today, and I hope you’ll find merriment in this evening’s occasion. I have asked you all here today, because a project my son,” she gestured with her glass towards a guy in his late teens who dressed casually where others were dressed in formal wear, “has been working on for quite some time. I request that you all move towards the windows, look forth with your sight, and enjoy the show.”

Excited murmurs started and everyone started to move forward.

“Shall we?” said Daniella.

Eloise nodded and together they walked. Fifty people went to go stand by the windows, and all of the fit.

The Wilcox loft stood tall at the centre of Buskerton. It was one amongst a series of building which were near the Interstate, a road that cut the city into the north and south. The building itself was in the southern side of the city, the _old_ side, which had the most history and from which spread the properties of families who’d lived in Buskerton when it had still been a small town. The north end was newer, lined with _buildings_ more than houses.

It was the area that Eloise lived, not too bad in places that were good, but close to rundown in places that were bad. The south end had more influence, richer families with ties to important people, and money seemed to find a way to trickle towards that side of the city, while the north end was a car in heavy need of maintenance it wasn’t getting.

The Wilcox’s loft looked towards the south end, however through magic, its gaze had been turned to look north.

Without her sight, all Eloise saw was a dark cloud as it slowly moved in. She had to squint before she saw that a strong gust of wind had started and it moved through the buildings of the north end, stirring up paper and knocking over trashcans.

“Ma’am,” she heard and she turned. One of the servants was at her side and he held opera glasses. Eloise took them and put them to her eyes. She could see better now and the impact of the wind looked worse: Objects that weren’t fixed to the ground weren’t being pushed over, rooftops that weren’t in good condition were kicked up and threatened to break.

Around her, people applauded and Eloise’s stomach dropped.

She _opened_ her eyes and the reason for the applause made itself known. A large spirit stood taller than a lot of buildings, it was of a woman, indistinct and glowing of soft, blue light, dressed a sweeping dress and with long hair let loose. She _danced,_ incorporating runs and jumps, spins and pirouettes into a routine. It was beautiful, reminding Eloise of when things hadn’t worked out with a woman she’d thought she’d had a chance with and the immediate aftermath.

But she had only to close her eyes to the sight to see the other side. The spirit was a Wind Spirit, and as it danced it stirred winds that grew stronger as time passed. Then the first rains fell.

Eloise opened her eyes to see that a man had joined the fray, and now the spirits danced around each other. They weren’t close, not yet, but there was the promise as they moved around each other. They wanted each other, but they were both unsure, they’d both been hurt and they were resistant to the idea of coming together.

As she closed her eyes to the sight, the dance was more violent. Wind whipped the rain and smacked it against buildings. The dark cloud had covered the north end and the rain fell in waves.

The spirits continued their dance, coming closer until they _met._

The meeting was passionate, so long they’d tested the boundaries, they’d held themselves back, but now they were wrapped up in each other.

Eloise saw as the windows of a store shattered under the assault of wind and rain; a car was whipped around as it was caught by the leg of the Wind Spirit as it was spun by the Rain Spirit.

Their meeting was fervent, unrestrained and unabashed, _frenzied,_ but ultimately it was short lived and the spirits broke apart.

As much as the experience had been gratifying, they both knew they’d been hurt too much and that their union would not be good, and thus they moved past each other.

The wind died down and a cloud, not as heavy as before, passed into the south end and a gentle shower fell.

Eloise let out a shuddering breath, shook her head and left, disgusted at what these people had called into being, but disgusted at herself as well for the dance between the two spirits had moved her.


	2. Chapter 2

“I honestly don’t know how you did it,” said Margret. She was an old woman and the quintessential image of a librarian. She was tall and narrow, dressed in clothes that were a mix brown, beige or a dull green, all of them long and threadbare. The only thing that took away from the usual stereotype was her cold, brown skin and the fact that her hair had been cut short.

“A bit of magic,” Eloise said, both the truth and a joke only because of her coy smile and the wink she added in the end.

Margret ran her fingers through the old books, reference material that hadn’t been used in years. She smiled as she opened them, as she found that the ink hadn’t been smudged, the pages hadn’t stuck together and they weren’t wrinkled. She shook her head in amazement.

Eloise felt light on her feet as she watched Margret, as she saw her happiness. The dinner party at the Wilcox loft had been three nights ago, and the north end of Buskerton was still reeling. There was a lot of ruin and property damage, thankfully Eloise’s place had escaped some of the damage, but the library hadn’t and some of books had been ruined.

“Barring any interruptions, I’ll have the rest of the books done tomorrow,” Eloise said.

Margaret shook her head. “This is more than we expected, _really,_ Eloise,” she said. “I thought we’d lost the books. I dreaded trying to get more from the city council.”

I sighed. “That’s always hard,” I said.

“Isn’t it?” she muttered. “We’re lucky they were so quick to get these windows fixed.”

“They probably don’t want to lose the computers.”

Margaret hummed. “If they really wanted that, they would have fixed them immediately after the storm,” she said. “We were lucky we weren’t robbed. We’re lucky those boys who did graffiti didn’t break in and take anything.”

 _Not luck,_ Eloise thought. _That graffiti had magical symbols on it._

The Wilcox family had talked to her first, Buskerton wasn’t a small town by any means but it had a small number of practitioners. Eloise didn’t talk to many save when she had business with them, but they knew about her and they knew where she worked, and so as apology for their part in ruining her workplace, they’d put up runes to ward away thieves, and they been the ones to give her the bottle that sucked up moisture.

The whir of a drill cut through the air and Margaret started. _“God_ I can’t wait until they’re done so they can leave,” she muttered.

Eloise snorted. “I should take these to their places,” said Eloise. “Unless you want to?”

Margaret shook her head. “The hip’s been working up ever since the storm,” she said. “Don’t like to get up if I don’t have to.”

“Tell me if you need something for the pain,” I said.

“Make me more those brownies that you do,” she said.

“Only if you promise not to eat them as much as you did last time.”

“No promises,” Margaret said.

Eloise let out a light laugh before she picked up the books from the counter and started walking. She opened her eyes again and a network of ropes appeared. Margaret was a normal woman, unawakened and unaware, but she’d worked so long in the library that ropes sprouted from her to attach to every book. Eloise had to turn her gaze a little, consciously ignoring Margaret’s strong presence to see a new set of connections.

She touched each of the books and looked for the ropes which stretched to their destination. There were two dozen books in all, each with a different home, and she touched it to get a sense of the closest to furthest. She sorted them then started on her work to put everything back in its proper place.

Since the storm, they hadn’t allowed any new people into the library until everything was fixed. The windows had shattered and a leak had gotten through that had soaked the much older books. Thankfully their computers, old and bulky though they were, hadn’t been affected by the storm which meant their attraction was still safe, though people would be itching to get back online, certainly the kids from the high school were irritated that they couldn’t come in.

_And all this because some practitioners from the south end wanted to show off._

The hint of guilt swirled in Eloise’s stomach once more as she remembered the great dance between the spirits. It had been beautiful in a way she hadn’t found anything in a long time, majestic, and a part of her wished that if something of the grandeur were to ever happen again, she would be invited. But then, as she saw a smudge where water had soaked into the floor, she remembered the aftermath.

She sighed and reached into the pocket of her coat to pull out the soda bottle. The bottle was made of glass, cleaned of all sign of the company whose soda had once been stored within, at the base of a bottle was a rune: a downward face triangle with a line at the bottom to give direction, the triangle was surrounded by a circle, with triangles faced inward at the north, east, south and west positions of the circle.

Eloise looked around with her sight, attention on the ropes, big and small, around her to see if anyone was closer or if anything paid attention. They had cameras in the library, but those things didn’t work and they were there to give people pause from stealing than to stop them. She bent and put the bottle on the ground.

The magic acted quickly, the water on the floor was drawn in from the base of the bottle and it filled it with clear water. The bottle was small and not all the water on the floor was drained, but it was work Eloise was determined to do until her library was back to working order.

There were only five of people who worked regularly in the library. Judy and Anita were off for the day, both dealing with damage to their homes, while Austin hadn’t come in because of the construction work. It meant Eloise was alone with Margaret and the workers, and she could work her magic without worry that anyone would run across her work. But for a bit of safety, she pulled in the vacuum cleaner from the storage room and pretended to clean with it.

It was two in the afternoon, Eloise having completed most of the clean-up for the water stains, and her new focus all the detritus the guys who’d fixed the windows had left in their wake. It was annoying to do because a part of her felt that the job of clean up should have been the workers. As much as Eloise and the rest of the library staff could, they’d done their best to clean up the site before it could be worked on, but the guys had come in, broken through wall to put in the new glass, and then left all the chips without so much as _sweeping_ it all into one corner.

 _Their mothers must be_ so _disappointed,_ Eloise thought as she focused on her work.

It was during this that a thin rope tied around her upper chest twisted as it was pulled. Eloise stopped, her heart momentarily skipping a beat, before she turned in the direction she felt the rope was pointed. She turned in time to see as the door into the library was opened. She was _sure_ they’d been locked after the workers had left, but Daniela stepped in.

“We’re closed,” Margaret said. She sat at the check-in station and looked up as Daniela stepped in.

The woman looked strapping as she had the night before though she was dressed differently. She wore a dress with short sleeves, coloured black with red splotches across it, the trim around the neck, arms and hem frilly with flower patterning. She wore gold bangles with black detailing on both arms, and her earrings were long, in a tear drop shape, coloured red.

“Oh,” she said and her eyes searched a little before they found Eloise. She turned back to Margaret. “I didn’t notice. I’m sorry. I was looking for Eloise. We know each other.”

“You’re her friend?” said Margaret.

“We were at a party together three nights ago,” Daniela said back. “She left without saying goodbye. I wanted to see her to make sure she was okay. There was a storm that night.”

“Oh,” said Margaret. She sat so she couldn’t see Eloise. Started to stand. “I’ll—”

“It’s okay, Margaret,” said Eloise as she quickly got closer.

There was no dress code in her job which meant she usually dressed for comfort, faded jeans which were a little room, worn with sneakers that had once been white though now they almost always had flecks of dirt. She wore a shirt a black shirt the library of Alexandria in the middle in white.

One of the kids had gotten her into the comics and she’d become a big fan of the heroine.

Eloise liked the clothes she wore, they were comfortable and not the worst looking, but against Daniela she felt self-conscious.

“Hey,” she said and she smiled.

“Hello,” said Daniela. “Are you busy?”

“I—”

“Go on,” said Margaret. “You’ve been busy most of the day. You deserve the rest.”

“Thanks,” said Eloise. “A walk?”

Daniela nodded.

The two of them stepped out of the library into a little courtyard laid over with red and yellow bricks, with a few pockets of greenery in places, and a bench under one of the trees. The front yard of the library was enclosed by a fence that had been black when it had been younger but was now covered in rust. The gate in had been pulled off after it had been too troublesome to open and close.

The street they walked into wasn’t thin and lined with trees, some of which were dead. The street was lined with homes that had been repurposed into offices for small businesses: a salon, not too far off, notary publics, a small accounting firm beside which was dry cleaning place. The street was close enough towards main street that the bustle of the street could be heard.

“You left without saying goodbye the other night,” Daniela started.

Eloise swallowed. “Oh. Um…yeah,” she said. “I wasn’t feeling too well and I decided to leave.”

“I hope it wasn’t anything too serious,” she said.

“It was…” Eloise shrugged. _It was because I couldn_ _’t sit with those people after what they watched. I knew how the conversation would be and I didn’t want to be a part of that._

“How did you enjoy the show?” Daniela asked. A frown marred Eloise’s expression. “You didn’t like it?”

Eloise swallowed uncomfortably. “I _loved_ it,” she said, “and that’s the problem. The city’s still reeling from the ‘show’ and there we were, enjoying it like it doesn’t matter.”

“But it doesn’t,” said Daniela. Eloise’s head snapped. “Not really. What the Wilcox’s did would have earned them a lot of bad karma if they didn’t have precautions in place to repay the people most affected by the damage her show wrought.”

“Yeah, but how long until the damage is fixed?” Eloise asked, heat in her voice. “Until everything is back to normal?” 

“I can’t say,” she said.

Eloise let out a breath in a huff. “I’m _sure_ that some people will be missed, that’s how these things happen after all. Bad shit happens and people with the most to lose, _do._ And why even do this? Why even go through the trouble of the show and fixing everything when she could maybe focus on making this place better in the first place? They have the money and influence for it.”

“For the reverence from her peers, presumably,” said Daniela. “I didn’t think you’d be angry.”

“Not angry, at least not _only_ angry,” Eloise muttered. “Just…maybe frustrated that they could casually do something like that. People could have died last night.”

Daniela frowned, but Eloise, too caught up in her thoughts, missed it.

“Sorry. Sorry,” said Eloise. “I don’t think you came here to hear me moan. Why did you come here?”

“We never finished our conversation,” she said. “I sought to finish it.”

_Wait, is_ _…is this what I think it is?_

Eloise felt her heart begin to beat faster and her tongue got thicker in her mouth. She gave Daniela a glance, the woman stood taller than Eloise and she had hooded eyes with thick eyelashes; she walked with a confidence to her that Eloise found entrancing. Her hair, dark and curly, shifted every time she took a step.

“There’s a cafe a little down the way, we can finish the conversation there,” Eloise said, a small test, even if the answer wouldn’t be conclusive.

“I would like that,” said Daniela.

They reached the cafe, ordered their drinks and pastries.

“You said your family was from Salem,” Eloise said, an opener.

“My family’s history is long,” she said. “The first of them to come to America were slaves, as it the case with a lot of peoples in these lands.”

Eloise snorted though she found no humour in it. She knew a lot of people who traced their bloodlines to former slaves, and who were slaves in a capacity now, though it was under different circumstances. It was a thought that had been heavy in her mind when she’d awakened and why, she hypothesised, her sight had presented itself as heavy ropes that tied things down.

“They moved around until eventually some planted their roots in Salem. Then the trials began, witch hunters at the head of the affair, and we travelled down until we reached Buskerton years later.”

“Years later?” Eloise asked.

“My people have long been travellers,” she said. “We travelled some before we eventually found a home in Buskerton. The practitioners of this place welcomed us, they feared more witch hunters and it was better to have power amassed to keep them at bay.”

“But that wasn’t long enough ago that you’re one of the oldest families?” Eloise asked.

Daniela shook her head. “The families that founded Buskerton still have lines,” she said. “Wilcox, Ainsworth, Blanchard, Burke, Collingwood and seven others. They are much older, with much stronger ties to this place.”

“All of this is so interesting,” Eloise said. “I wish I’d brought a pen and paper to write it down.”

“We could meet again and I could tell you about them,” said Daniela.

Eloise smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I’d like that.”

“Tell me about yourself. I…” She blushed and this Eloise noticed. Daniela cleared her throat. “I asked of you, and many don’t know how you were awakened. It seems you have no teacher.”

“I found books in the library,” she said. _“Essentials_ and _Transformations: Journeys from Hex to Curse._ The first was a little simpler, it gave me enough of an idea about things that could work magic and I kept away from the most dangerous things at first. It was incomplete in some things but there was enough there. The second book was the one that made me want to write my own.”

Daniela hummed. “I finally understand why you were frustrated,” she said. “Many in your position struggle to find power.”

Eloise shrugged. “I’m lucky that I don’t really care about power,” she said. “I keep away the most dangerous stuff and that’s all I ask for. I just want to _know_ even if I’m not going to do stuff like talk wind spirits or rain spirits into dancing together.”

Daniela smiled.

Eloise blushed. “What?” she said and she felt a little self-conscious.

Daniela had the most beautiful green eyes and to look into them, Eloise was drawn in. She took a sip of her drink for something to do.

“It’s refreshing to hear that at least someone isn’t hungry for power,” said Daniela. “It’s a rare quality with practitioners.”

“You don’t seem the type,” said Eloise.

Daniela’s smile wilted. “You give me too much credit,” she said. She shook her head a little. “Have you always lived in the city?”

Eloise shook her head. “Um…I needed to get away and this seemed as good as any a place to start,” she said. “Not too big. Not too small.”

“Does it have something to do with your sexuality?” Daniela asked.

Eloise held her breath for a second before she let it out. She nodded slowly. She swallowed.

“I…it got out that I liked girls. My parents thought it was a phase and they wanted me to date guys.” She snorted. “I had a gay friend and we were beards for each other. My parents were happy. Two years where I had a ‘boyfriend’ but I was planning on leaving the whole time. Saving money, took on jobs, that kind of thing. We both were, me and him, but I went ahead and left while he didn’t want to lose what he had with his family. Rather live a lie with his family, than live his truth without them.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” said Daniela.

“It is what it is,” Eloise said with a shrug. “I have a life and I’m pretty happy with it. Are you queer? And does your family know?”

Daniela smiled. “I’m the sole child to my parents,” she said. “They noticed how much I didn’t like the matches they had for me, but they continued no less. In a fit of passion I declared to all spirits who would listen that I would _never_ marry a man.”

“That is…one of the most awesome things I’ve heard,” said Eloise. “How did they react?”

“They had no choice but to accept me as I am,” she said. “By right our family power would come to me when my parents met their end. If they forced the matter all that power would be forfeit. Of course, Father being the man he is, he matched me with compatible women. There was the possibility I might get married but the match he’d set for me was a man whose soul was given an inappropriate body.”

“He’s trans?”

Daniela nodded.

“How is he?”

“He left the city,” she said. “He got a glamour so his body could match his soul, but it was better if he was in a place where he wasn’t known. Glamour works better if there is a strong foundation of belief tied to it, here, in Buskerton, there were those, unawakened, who knew him as a woman, those who didn’t respect his identity and chose to stick an incorrect label on him. The glamour broke and rebounded which wasn’t good for him. So he left to give the glamour enough time to settle. If enough belief is fed into the glamour, if it’s fortified, it will be hard for the few who live here to question it hard enough to break it.”

“Good for him,” said Eloise.

“Yes,” said Daniela. She frowned and reached into her pocket. She pulled out her phone. “It seems I have to go. May I have your number? I don’t want to intrude on your work next time.”

 _Next time,_ Eloise thought.

“Sure,” she said and it was perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm that she took her phone to give Daniela her number. The exchange done, Eloise returned to work with a bounce in her step.


End file.
